by Debby Conrad
CHAPTER FIVE
Janie had only been to Rudy’s once before, for a bachelorette party. She and her friends had nicknamed the place ‘The Pick-up Haven’ because of all the guys who had hit on them that night. But Janie didn’t need to worry about things like that anymore, now that she was in the market to be hit on. By the right man, of course.
The smoke-filled bar was packed. A twangy tune--a female vocalist singing about her cheating lover--blasted from the juke box on the far side of the room. At the back of the room, band members were busy setting up their equipment to play.
Spotting an empty stool at the bar, Janie made her way through the crowd and claimed it. She ordered a berry wine cooler and sipped at it while she waited for Brad. She’d been twenty minutes early, which surprised her. She’d never been early for anything in her life. Which just went to show that she was excited about seeing Brad, and that had to mean she must be over Gabe.
Not that she’d been hooked on him or anything like that. But at least she wouldn’t be thinking about him all evening. Out of sight, out of mind. Instead, she’d be thinking about the cute lifeguard.
“Do you want to dance?” the skinny man with greasy hair to her right asked. His arms and neck were covered with tattoos and one of his front teeth was missing.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I don’t really care for country western music.”
He leaned closer and blew smoke and beer tainted breath in her face. “So?”
Oh, brother. “So,” she said slowly, “I don’t want to dance to it.” Or with you.
“Okay. You wanna go to my place and get it on? My name is Bardolf. Barf for short.”
Barf? Well, the name certainly suited him. “Thanks for the . . . tempting offer, Barf, but if you don’t mind I’m waiting for someone.”
“Well, hell, I don’t mind sharin’. But the dude’ll have to wait his turn cuz I saw you first. Unless you wanna do one of them menageries. That’s French for three-some.”
Janie stared at the man, opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Gathering her purse and drink, she slid off the stool and found a table for two in the corner.
She kept one eye on the front door for Brad and the other on Barf the Barbarian. Hopefully, the man could take a hint and he wouldn’t push himself where he wasn’t wanted. She’d never had much patience with men like him. Didn’t they understand the word ‘no’? Then again, since he didn’t know the difference between menagerie and ménage a trois, maybe he didn’t know what ‘no’ meant.
Gabe hadn’t had any problem with the word last night. In fact, he hadn’t even seemed angry with her, and look how far they’d gone before she’d put a stop to things.
Stop it, Janie. Stop thinking about Gabe. You’re here to meet Brad, and you’re going to have a wonderful time. And then after a few dances and a few kisses, you’ll know if he’s the one. Especially if his kisses make you shiver the way Gabe’s do.
Janie shook her head. It was impossible to wash Gabe Montero from her mind. But maybe it wasn’t her fault. What was the old saying? Be careful what you wish for or you just may end up with it? Well, apparently, that’s what had happened. Gabe was like a bad habit, and no matter how badly she wanted to kick it, she couldn’t.
Staring at the front door, she noticed a man walk into the bar who looked a lot like Gabe. She lowered her head into her hands and laughed. Now I’m hallucinating, thinking every man I see is him.
Raising her head, she took a sip of her wine cooler and nearly choked. The man who’d entered the bar two seconds ago not only looked like Gabe, it was Gabe. What the devil was he doing here?
He pocketed his sunglasses and swaggered over to her table like he owned the place. His beautifully proportioned body was covered in jeans and a black T-shirt. Ninety-five percent of Rudy’s clientele had blue jeans on, including her, but no one looked as good in them as Gabe. The man wore denim like it was made for him. “Hello, Janie.” His gaze shifted around the room at the singles milling about, dancing, laughing and drinking. “This place sure is hopping. Any luck yet?”
“What are you doing here, Montero?”
“I was thirsty. Mind if I sit down?” Before she could protest, he pulled out the chair across from her and dropped into it. His knee bumped hers under the table and a current of electricity shot up her leg. As nonchalantly as possible, she slid her chair back a few inches.
“I’m meeting someone. A date,” she clarified, “so don’t go getting too comfortable because you’re going to have to leave.”
“At least let me buy you a drink first.”
“Thanks, but I already have one,” she said, lifting the bottle and taking a sip.
Ignoring her, he signaled for a waitress. A woman with blond frizzy hair hurried over to greet him. “Welcome to Rudy’s,” she said, batting her thick, navy blue, mascara-coated lashes. “What can I get you?” Candy--at least that was the name on the little blue tag she wore--leaned forward and swiped the table top with a wet rag, treating Gabe to a view of her cleavage. She was at least a D-cup. Not that Janie was impressed, but Gabe sure seemed to be.
“Whatever you have on top--I mean on tap--will be fine,” he said with a wink, and Janie wanted to gag. “Oh and, Candy, bring the lady another wine cooler.”
Before Janie could protest, the woman sped away, her hips swinging from one side to the other. Janie couldn’t help but notice the way Gabe watched those hips with interest. She cleared her throat to get his full attention and then asked again, “What are you doing here?”
“I told you, I was thirsty.”
“And I don’t believe you.” She studied him for a moment, watching the way his lips formed a crooked smile. “You followed me, didn’t you?”
He looked offended. “Now, why would I do something like that?” He paused for a moment, then added, “Besides, I didn’t have to follow you. Gertie told me where you were.”
Janie was going to have to have a talk with her neighbor. “You and Gertie seem to be getting pretty close.”
He shrugged. “She can’t refuse my irresistible charm. I think she might even love me. What can I say?”
Candy stopped at their table and set their drinks down. Her big boobs brushed Gabe’s cheek. Moving his head out of the way, he smiled guiltily at Janie.
“Whoops,” Candy said, nodding at her chest. “They’re always getting in the way.”
“I’ll bet,” Janie said with a roll of her eyes, knowing full well the woman had done it intentionally.
Candy turned her attention to Janie. “You know, this may surprise you, honey, but I always wished I had teeny breasts. Like yours. You wouldn’t believe how many guys ask me out just to cop a feel. I’ll bet you don’t have that problem.”
Pasting on a pretty smile, Janie said, “You’re right.” And for the first time in her life, she actually appreciated her miniscule breasts. Once Candy sashayed away, Janie pinned Gabe with a look. “She seemed a little obvious, don’t you think?”
“About what?” he asked.
“Never mind.” She knew Gabe was just playing dumb, but she didn’t have time to argue with him. “Hurry up and drink your beer, and then you have to leave. Brad should be here any minute.”
“Brad?” he asked, lifting the frosted mug to his lips like he had all the time in the world.
“Yes. Brad Carpenter. You remember the lifeguard from the beach yesterday.”
“Oh, you mean College Boy. Isn’t he a little young for you? He’s what, twenty-one, and you’re thirty?”
“I’m twenty-eight with limited mileage. That should count for something. Besides, It’s not like I’m going to take advantage of him or anything.” She ran her fingers along the sweat-covered bottle.
“Hmmm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just that I know how persuasive you can be. I’d hate for that kid to jump into bed with you just because he was afraid to say no to an elder.”
“Very
funny, Montero. Now drink up and then get lost.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a geeky-looking guy with red hair and horn-rimmed glasses too big for his face. “Excuse me, miss,” he said with a tremor in his voice. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” His gaze drifted between Janie and Gabe. “But I was sort of . . . What I mean is, I was wondering if you’d, you know, like to dance. It’s okay if you don’t. I mean . . .” He paused and glanced over his shoulder at a table of guys who were watching them. “My friends, they sort of dared me to come over here and ask you. They didn’t think I had the nerve. So, if you don’t want to dance, I’ll understand.” Then he turned and started to walk away.
“Wait!” Janie got to her feet. “What’s your name?”
He spun back around, his eyes wide with surprise. “Clarence. Clarence J. Wilkins the Third.”
“I’d love to dance with you, Clarence.” Then giving Gabe a warning look when he looked as if he were about to intervene, she looped her arm through the geek’s and steered him out onto the dance floor. Once there, she had to take the lead because the poor guy was shaking so badly, he could barely talk, let alone dance. She was grateful it was a slow tune because she’d never learned how to do any of those line dances that were so popular.
Clarence’s palm was so sweaty her hand kept slipping from his. As they circled around she noticed Candy standing by their table flirting with Gabe. But Gabe’s eyes weren’t on the waitress with the big boobs. They were on her and her dance partner, watching their every move. When the song was over, Clarence thanked her three times, then scurried back to his friends.
Janie walked back to her table and sat down. Apparently, Candy had brought Gabe another beer. A mug sat empty in the middle of the table while he nursed a full one.
“He was sweet,” she said, referring to Clarence.
“Yeah, you would think that.”
“Excuse me?” Janie asked, accentuating the annoyance she felt with him.
“It’s the quiet, shy types you have to be careful of. Those guys go so long without it, they can’t control themselves once they’re finally alone with a woman. Plus they’re pretty quick with the trigger, if you know what I mean. You’d be wasting your time.”
“It’s my time. What do you care?” she taunted, although she had no intention of going out with Clarence or any other geek types. She needed a real man to help her.
“I don’t. I was just offering my opinion.”
“Well, butt out.” Looking at her watch, she frowned. Brad was half an hour late.
“Looks like College Boy stood you up.”
“Our date isn’t until nine,” she lied, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing the truth.
“Really? Gertie said you two were meeting at eight.”
She regarded him with somber curiosity. “So you knew I was meeting with College Boy? I mean Brad,” she said, quickly correcting her mistake.
From the look on his face, she could tell he’d stuck his foot in his mouth with that one. “Gertie might have mentioned it.”
“So, why did you come then? To spy on me? To protect me? What?”
“I was worried about the kid.”
“Oh, please,” she mumbled, but before she could say anything more, a guy who looked like he lifted weights for a living made his way toward them. He had coppery hair and bright blue eyes, and was actually kind of cute, if you liked the Arnold Schwarzenegger type. Which, she decided she did. She thrust her hand forward and greeted him with a bright smile. “Hi. I’m Janie Callahan.”
“Kurt Russell. Not the actor Kurt Russell,” he said with a grin and reached for her hand.
“No, but you sort of look like him.” Janie glanced at Gabe. “Doesn’t he, Montero?”
“Never heard of him,” Gabe answered, scowling.
“You’re kidding, right, man?” Kurt asked. “The lucky bastard’s married to Goldie Hawn. Or, at least, he used to be.”
“Sorry,” Gabe said with a lift of one shoulder, then took a swig from his mug.
Kurt rolled his eyes at Gabe and looked back at Janie. “Would you like to dance?”
Just as she was about to say yes, Gabe stood. “Sorry, but the lady promised this dance to me.”
Coming to stand toe to toe with him, she tipped her head back so she could see his face and whispered, “I told you to butt out. Besides, he looks like he might be a possibility.”
“Don’t make a scene,” he said, a silken thread of warning in his voice.
Janie’s mouth fell open, but instead of arguing, she gave Kurt an apologetic shrug and let Gabe lead her to the dance floor. He swung her into the circle of his arms and wrapped them around her waist. She was lucking out with the slow songs tonight.
Unlike Clarence, Gabe Montero knew exactly how to embrace a woman. He held her close, rocking her gently back and forth. He was a foot taller than her, and the top of her head barely skimmed the bottom of his chin. Keeping time with the music, his hands explored the length of her back and her nipples strained against his hard chest. The occasional jolt of his thigh brushing against hers had her body tingling from the contact. Then, breathing in his clean soap scent, she twined her fingers in his thick black hair and rested her forehead against the hollow of his throat.
The steady beat of his heart throbbed against her cheek; her own heart working double time. Her mind returned to last night and her mouth hungered from the memory of his lips on hers. She could barely swallow.
And she simply had to stop thinking about him like this.
She looked up and caught him staring down at her. “This is . . . nice,” she said, unable to stop herself from saying something.
“Yes,” he agreed, then pressed his mouth to her hair. His warm breath was whisper soft. “Janie, about last night . . .”
“Forget about it. I have.” She couldn’t possibly admit that she’d thought about nothing else in the past twenty-four hours. Besides, if he wanted to pretend that he wasn’t interested in her, then she could do the same.
But a few moments later she found herself snuggling a little closer to him. Her body became tranquil and her eyes slowly drifted shut as she glided with him along the dance floor. They were the only two people on the entire continent at the moment.
Then, opening her eyes, she realized they’d stopped moving, and there was Kurt Russell grinning at her over Gabe’s shoulder. “I’m cutting in.”
“Sorry, pal,” Gabe said, and Janie was grateful and annoyed at the same time. It’s not that she wanted to dance with Kurt; it was the fact that she didn’t like Gabe trying to control her.
“I’m a grown woman, Montero, and I make my own choices.”
Gabe leaned back and stared down into her face. “You actually want to dance with that bozo?”
No, I’d rather dance with you. “As a matter of fact, I do,” she lied.
“Fine,” he said, dropping his arms from around her waist and stomping off.
Men. They were such poor sports.
Kurt wasn’t quite as smooth as Gabe. In fact, he wasn’t smooth at all. He hauled her up against him and squeezed her so tightly she could barely breathe.
“Kurt,” she managed to choke out, “you’re cutting off my circulation.”
He didn’t answer, just kept on moving in a circle, occasionally stepping on her toes. His cologne smelled like pine cleaner and was making her eyes water and her nose run. But that was nothing. What really had her concerned was the way his big beefy hand was snaking down her back and onto her hips. He was getting way too frisky.
She tried to pull out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her go, and then his hand was on her butt, kneading her, like she was a piece of sculpting clay. “Kurt! Do you mind?”
“Not at all. You have a great ass.”
“That’s very flattering, but if you don’t get your hand off it, you’re going to be sorry.”
She’d no sooner spoken when she heard Gabe’s voice boom out. “Look, Popeye, the la
dy asked you nicely to get your filthy hands off her.”
Kurt stopped dancing, but didn’t move his hand off her butt. “And who’s going to make me?”
Gabe straightened to his full height. “I am.”
“Yeah. Maybe I should warn you that I’m a black belt.”
Janie didn’t appreciate Gabe’s choice of words he’d used to respond, and apparently, neither did Kurt. All she had a chance to do, before Kurt planted his fist in Gabe’s right cheekbone and sent him flying backward into a table of women, was wince. Outraged over what the man had done, Janie reached for the first thing she saw, which was a pitcher of beer from a passing tray, and dumped it over Kurt’s head.
Trying to jump backward, Kurt slipped on the puddle beneath him and his arms flailed wildly to keep from falling down. But it was no use. He hit the floor with a thud and then lay motionless.
Janie’s hand flew to her mouth. She’d knocked him out cold. Screams, curses and foul language soon followed, and then men, and a few women, were punching and shoving. Oh, God, she was in the middle of a brawl, and it was all because of her.
Worried about Gabe, Janie ran over to him. Two guys had him by the arms, holding him back. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’ll live. That is, once I get my hands on that son of a bitch.”
“Hey, man. Calm down,” one of the guys holding Gabe’s arm said.
Gabe sucked in a huge breath and said, “Back off,” very calmly, and the men dropped their hold on him and stepped out of the way.
“Where is he?” Gabe asked Janie, moving toward the crowd in the middle of the dance floor while he massaged his swollen cheek and eye.
Tugging on his arm, she shouted above the crowd, “You’ll do no such thing. We’re getting out of here before you get yourself killed.”
“Like hell,” he argued, dislodging her hand from his upper arm.
“Gabe, I already took care of him.”
He jerked his head around and stared at her. “What do you mean you already took care of him?”
Nodding her head toward the heap on the floor, she said, “Right over there. You’re too late. Now, let’s get out of here.”